Rockin' Rodeo Series Collection Books 1-3

by Vicki Tharp

  Viet Cong hooch. Ed drank it like water. For Ian it burned more going out than it did going in. Ian took the cup. He’d pay for it later, but with the mood that had been hanging around him like a moldy feed bag, he wouldn’t turn free alcohol down.

  Ed sat on his cot, forgoing the cup and drinking straight from the bottle. “What’s with the aunt?”

  Ian eyed him over his cup, still trying to drum up the courage to take a sip. He debated telling Ed about his quest to find his father. The old coot was temperamental, a bit of an asshole, but he also listened. Though any and all advice, Ian took with a grain of salt and a long swallow of hooch.

  Ian told him everything. His mother’s affair. Him learning the man who’d raised him wasn’t his father. The list of names Cora had found for Ian. His aunt’s efforts calling through the list to see if she could find Ian’s father.

  “So little Ian Murphy’s looking for daddy.” Make that a full-fledged asshole. “Ain’t that sweet.”

  Ian sucked down the last of the alcohol. Didn’t taste so bad after all your internal organs had gone numb. “Fuck you. I don’t expect you to understand.”

  “Boo hoo.”

  “You can be a real dick sometimes.”

  Ed held up his hands. “Look, kid. What do you expect to get out of this?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe to feel connected to something. To someone.”

  The bottle made a popping sound when Ed pulled his lips free and swallowed. “The past is the past. Best to leave it there.”

  Knowing better, Ian took a chance and said, “You must have known some of the guys from your tenure at the Times. Anyone of them leave kids behind when they moved on? Maybe you had a drink with him and my mom at a bar or party or—”

  With a heavy sigh, Ed held out a hand and made a give-it-here motion. “You got a picture of your mother?”

  Ian shrugged. He had nothing to lose. Digging through his duffel, he pulled out an envelope and dumped the contents out on his cot. Along with his official press papers, he kept a few personal items. A picture of his step-father and brothers—more because it felt wrong not to bring one with him than the fact he wanted to be reminded of them— and the one of Cora kissing him on the beach. It almost seemed masochistic to keep it now, but he couldn’t bring himself to toss it away.

  Under a copy of the winter season rodeo schedule that he’d kept, he found the time-worn photograph of his mother holding him as an infant. His eyes flitted back to the schedule. The rodeo finals were in Houston in a little over a week. He knew where Cora would be until then. After that, he had no idea where or when he’d be able to find her again.

  He handed the photo of his mother to Ed, who had to wipe his hands dry on his pants before touching it. Ed stared at the photograph, then squinted and rubbed the sweat out of his eyes. Then threw his head back and laughed.

  Ian snatched the picture out of Ed’s hand and started stuffing his possessions back into the over-sized envelope. “What the hell is wrong with you, man?”

  “Ol’ Colleen,” Ed said, wiping a tear from his eyes from laughing so hard. Ian stiffened. “That lady was one hell of a lay.”

  Ian raised his chin, his hands fisting at his sides. “You’re telling me—”

  “Boy, don’t get your panties in a twist over something that happened twenty odd years ago.” The alcohol must be getting into Ed’s system because his sentences had topped five words.

  “Twenty-five.”

  Ed shrugged. “So how is Colleen?”

  Ian threw Ed a cutting stare that flew over the man’s head. “Dead.”

  “Ah.” The alcohol haze lifted a little, and Ed’s focus cleared. “Yeah, so you’ve said.”

  “You’re him.”

  “Apparently.”

  Tilting his head, Ian took in this man who’d slept with his mother, trying to see something of himself in the man sitting across from him. Maybe in the color of his eyes or his smile. But Ian didn’t have that cruel curve, that Ed’s smile sometimes took. Ian waited for some sort of primal recognition, some connection, but he felt...nothing.

  Ed didn’t seem phased or moved by the news. Had his mother meant anything to Ed? Or had she only been ‘a hell of a lay?’ “Did you know about me?”

  Ed shook his head. “If it makes you feel any better, I wouldn’t have stuck around anyway.”

  “How many half-brothers or sisters do I have out there?”

  Ed shrugged again, his body language as effusive as his spoken language. “Dunno.”

  Reaching across, Ed poured the last of the hooch into Ian’s cup. “Drink up, son.”

  “Don’t ever call me that.” Ian stood, needing to walk or run, or something. Anything, anywhere as long as Ed wasn’t there.

  He headed toward the tent flap when Ed said, “Hey, kid.”

  Stopping, Ian turned, and Ed threw Ian’s helmet at him. “Keep your head down.”

  * * *

  Cora held Panache’s reins as she led him beneath the stands of the Houston Astrodome, home of the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo. Tonight was the last night. The final round. A lot of money riding on the outcome of the race that night. Enough to get Cora through the next season if she counted her pennies.

  “Hey, wait up.”

  Cora stopped, and Levi jogged over, his chestnut quarter horse Chunk trotting at the end of his reins.

  Levi fell into step beside her and threw a companionate arm around her shoulder. “You know, we can go behind the restrooms for a good luck fuck if you think it would help you with your run tonight.” Levi grinned, cheesy and wide.

  Cora threw her head back and laughed, almost regretting ever telling Levi about how she’d approached Ian for sex. At least now she could laugh about it.

  Olivia Marsh, the owner of No Bull, the roughstock company, who’d taken over after Hines had gotten himself arrested, cut Levi a look as she walked by. “You really are a pig, Banks.”

  Levi dropped his arm from Cora’s shoulder and glanced behind him at the tall blond. “It was a joke,” he hollered out.

  Then to Cora said, “I was joking.”

  “I know.”

  “Where did that come from? I don’t know what I did wrong, but she’s been on my ass since Hines got arrested. It’s not my fault her employee was a douchebag asshole and got exactly what he deserved.”

  Cora waggled her brows. “Maybe she likes you. Maybe her treating you like the scum beneath her boot is like the little boys who used to dip little girls’ pig tails into the ink wells at school.”

  “Ah...no. Olivia’s smart, beautiful, and just as soon see me drawn and quartered than give me the time of day.”

  “Like you said, smart woman.”

  Levi tugged her into him and gave her a smacking kiss on the top of her head. “Thanks, Hayes. I don’t know what my ego would do without you.”

  Overhead, the announcer came over the PA giving the order of the first five barrel racers after the upcoming arena drag. “Don’t you have to be somewhere?” Cora asked.

  “I’ve got time to watch your run.”

  “You don’t have—”

  “I like being there for you.”

  Cora gave him a warning look. “Says the man who just broke up with his girlfriend.”

  “As a friend only. Lord knows I can’t compete with Ian’s ghost.”

  At the mention of Ian’s name her chest constricted, and she had to suck air in through her mouth to get enough oxygen. She’d called Josephine’s father at his ranch religiously once a week waiting on a return letter from Ian.

  Called and waited for nothing.

  Despite all the letters she’d sent him, telling him how much she loved him. How she’d wait for him. But after a few months of radio static, even Josephine had a hard time coming up with believable excuses as to why Ian hadn’t written back.

  It was way past time for Cora to move on. She’d worked and trained hard and proved to herself these past few months that she didn’t need a man to win. Bu
t it sure as hell would have been nice to have one by her side to celebrate when she did.

  Levi brushed a thumb under her eye, where the bags and bruising from her lack of sleep were receding. “You’ve been sleeping better it seems.”

  She nodded. “I have.”

  “You moved on?”

  “Yeah,” she said, but with the way her voice cracked, the lie didn’t fly.

  The announcer called the first racer, and Levi and Chunk backed up a couple steps, so Cora could swing up into the saddle.

  “Cora?” Levi said as he started to lead Chunk away.

  “Yeah?”

  “Kick some ass out there.”

  Cora shoved her hat down farther on her head and smiled down at Levi. “I plan on it.”

  A few minutes later, the announcer called out Cora’s name and number and she trotted into the alley.

  “Go, Cora!” Josephine yelled and clapped from behind the alley fence.

  As much as Cora wished Ian were there, she knew that if she ran clean, she had as good of a chance of winning as anybody. It had taken Ian leaving and Cora continuing to win for her to know that she had what it took to make it big in barrel racing. To put up fast runs. To show the world what she and Panache were made of.

  Ian’s dick hadn’t been magic, it hadn’t made her win, but Ian’s love and patience and faith in her and her abilities continued to fuel her. Knowing that one person in the world believed in her with all his heart...that was magic.

  Tonight, she planned on winning. Not to show him. Not to show the world. But to show herself.

  “Let’s go, boy,” Cora said as she kicked Panache into a gallop.

  They burst into the arena, the enormous crowd packing the Astrodome, deafening. She couldn’t hear the thunder of Panache’s hooves or the roar of his breathing, but as she headed for the first barrel, she felt all of her horse’s heart.

  Cheers and adrenaline fueled them, Panache rated his speed at the first barrel, digging hard and deep with his back legs skirting the barrel with inches to spare, then hurtling for the second barrel. The second and third barrels flew by in a flurry of flying dirt and dust.

  Sweat broke out on Panache’s neck as Cora stood in the stirrups and held her hands and reins up his neck as Panache shifted into another gear. The wind stung her eyes and she couldn’t see her time as she rocketed back down the alley.

  She sat deep in the saddle, gradually slowing Panache to a walk. A small cheer went up from the other riders beneath the stands and she slapped Josephine’s hand as her friend trotted by for her own run.

  Panache pranced sideways, still amped up from all the excitement. Cora jumped down and pulled the reins over her horse’s head. Over to her left, she spotted Levi and Chunk. He pumped his fist in the air and clapped.

  Then Levi’s focus shifted, and his smile got wider. He bumped his chin toward something behind her. “Look.”

  “What?”

  Panache panted in her left ear.

  “Behind you,” he shouted.

  Cora turned, running smack into a hard chest. Hands came up to steady her. “I’m sorry, I—”

  “Hello, Cora.”

  She knew that voice. Knew the chemical smell. Developer and fixer and dreams she didn’t dare dream. Slowly she looked up, almost afraid that he wasn’t really there. But he was. His hair was shorter beneath his cowboy hat. His body leaner beneath her fingers. “Ian.”

  Before she could say anything else, Levi walked over and shook Ian’s hand and took Panache’s reins. “You two go. I’ll take care of Panache.”

  “But—”

  Levi started backing away, taking the horses with him. “Don’t argue.”

  She turned back to Ian, still not believing her eyes. “How?—Why?—”

  “Hold that thought.” He linked his fingers with hers and dragged her through the tunnels beneath the stadium and pushed through the exit doors, dumping them out into a parking lot with a sea of cars, trucks, and trailers.

  The stadium doors closed behind them, trapping the chaos inside. The stars hung high, the temperature mild even for late February in Houston.

  Ian leaned back against the building and pulled her between his legs. “Hey, there.”

  His hands cupped her neck, his thumb tracing over the pulse thrumming at the base of her collarbone, his eyes drinking her in.

  “Hey, there yourself.”

  “Put your hands on my shirt and hold on tight.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Just do it.”

  She did. “Now what?”

  “Now I’m going to kiss you, Cora Hayes.”

  He ducked his head, but she pressed a finger to his lips. “What if I don’t want to be kissed?”

  Ian raised an amused brow, his gaze flicked from her eyes to her lips and back again. He didn’t say anything, he just waited.

  “Okay fine,” Cora said. “You can kiss me.”

  That time, when Ian leaned in, she didn’t stop him. She also didn’t stop him when he led her to his rental car and took her to a hotel with a room overlooking the Astrodome.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said as she stared out the window at all the lights from the city and the carnival on the far side of the dome.

  Ian came up behind her, and threaded his arms around her waist, kissing the back of her neck, and breathing her in deep. “I missed your smell. Pine shavings, horse sweat, and sass.”

  Cora laughed, turning in his arms, her words soft, but serious when she said, “I missed you.”

  “I called.” Ian brushed his hands up and down her back, before finally settling on the curve of her ass, holding her against him. “That night when I left. I called from the airport when you didn’t ride. I thought you might be hurt or—”

  She rested her forehead against his, her whispered words falling from her lips. “Oh my God.”

  With a finger under her chin, he tilted her head up. “What?”

  “I came after you. Fighting through the traffic and the snow. I ran to the gate. I called out, but I was too late.”

  Ian closed his eyes and for a second there, Cora wasn’t sure he was still breathing. When he opened them again, his eyes were glassy. “Why did you come?”

  “I didn’t want you to leave without knowing the truth. That I loved you.”

  “Loved?” He said, his voice tentative. “Past tense?”

  Cora didn’t hesitate. “No. Present tense love. I loved you then. I love you now.”

  “Oh, baby.” Ian folded his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. Beneath her ear, his heart beat, a rapid erratic thumping matching her own. He took her hands and tugged her back with him to the bed and sat, leaning against the headboard.

  He pulled her into his lap and shucked her boots. “Would you have asked me to stay?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered with all honesty. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to pass up your dream for me. But then I got selfish and sent those letters asking you to come home anyway.”

  “What letters?”

  “The ones—” Cora glanced up at him. He wasn’t pretending. “You never got my letters?”

  He shook his head. “You get mine?”

  “No.” She ran her hand over the scruff on his jaw. “But you came anyway.”

  “I found my father,” he said, but before she could say anything, he added, “funny story, but it can wait. But in finding him, I realized the piece of me that was missing wasn’t out there in the wild world, it was back here. With you.”

  He put his hand over her heart and it kicked back against her chest. “I’ve got no money. Just a truck and camper in storage a couple hours away. But this is where I belong, if you’ll still have me.”

  “Yes,” she said, as the grin took over her face.

  He pulled her in for a crushing kiss. Their teeth clashed, but neither of them cared. He took the kiss deeper, as the blood rushed to her core, and her fingers fumbled with his belt.

  Breaking the kiss, he
said, “I need you naked, woman.”

  “You think I’m easy.”

  “I do.” When he grinned down at her that way, all she wanted to do was strip him bare and have her way with him.

  She gave him a playful swat. “I promised myself if I ever saw you again I wouldn’t fall straight into your bed until I told you how I really felt.”

  “To be fair,” he said as he unbuttoned her shirt, button by button, “this isn’t my bed, I’m here too, so I’m just as easy as you are, and finally, you told me how you felt, so no broken promises.”

  “I still think I’m too easy.”

  Cora unbuckled his belt, and pulled it free, her breath catching as he nibbled his way down her neck toward her breast. He unsnapped her bra and groaned as he took her nipple into his mouth. Her head fell back, and she held his head in place.

  He shifted, her nipple coming free with a soft pop. “That’s just the way I love you.”

  Reined In

  1

  1976. A new year. A new rodeo season. Time for hard work to pay off.

  Thursday night found Levi Banks at the Travis County Fairgrounds on the outskirts of Austin, Texas. He backed up his chestnut quarter horse, Chunk, into the back of the box at the end of the arena, preparing for his final practice run of the day. Bob Forney, one of the men from No Bull Roughstock Supply, loaded another steer into the chute, as Chunk danced beneath Levi, eager to run.

  Levi’s hazer, Cooter Craw, was the best a bulldogger could ask for. As a friend, he was even better. Cooter nodded from the box on the other side of the steer, indicating he was ready. In turn, Levi nodded to Forney.

  As the calf burst from the chute, Levi noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Olivia Marsh. His heart stumbled a beat, and Cooter took off, catching Levi off guard. A split second behind, he put his heels to Chunk’s sides. His horse scrambled out of the box, galloping after the steer.

  On his best black and white Pinto, Cooter rode hard to keep the steer running straight, but with Levi and Chunk playing catch-up, the calf veered too far to the left. If Levi had been smart, he’d have pulled Chunk up short. Diving off a galloping horse onto an animal with horns was dangerous enough without pushing a bad situation.